The Understudy Ch. 02

"No... Marc... Marcus wouldn't do something like that!" I whisper, trying to convince myself. 'Oh? And he wouldn't force you to the ground and shove his cock in your mouth five minutes after meeting me either?' another part of my mind argues, and I struggle to find a counter argument.

Of course, Gerald insisted that Marcus was not interested in filming me, but can I trust him? I have no idea.

If I was sexually frustrated before, I'm entirely on edge now, but there is no possible way I can finish myself off. I speed through the rest of my shower, and towel off quickly, dressing myself as fast as I can.

As soon as I slide the tank-top over my torso, I look down. This sleep wear is so revealing. It's hardly better than being naked, but I'm grateful that I have it. It's certainly better than the maid's uniform.

My top is a girly, pink thing, which in no way covers my midriff, hell it barely extends below the bottom of my breasts. The panties are also soft and incredibly sexy, with delicate lace which hugs my ass cheeks. They are just as provocative as the naughtiest pair I own, but I'm not wearing them for a date. I'm just wearing them to bed. I'd probably be angrier if they weren't so unbelievably soft.

I step from the bathroom, still toweling off my hair, and collapse onto my bed. The massive contract that I signed is sitting on the nightstand, and I pick it up. It's practically a tome; skimming through it a bit more carefully, I see that it is far more sexual than I ever would have guessed at first glance. The entirety of my contract was laid out in front of me from the start, but I signed it without reading.

Of course, this document might not hold up in court. I could probably sue Marcus for sexual misconduct or something... but if I did, I would be kissing my chances of acting goodbye forever. And anyway, he could afford far better lawyers than I ever could.

Even if I won the case, and got rich - an outcome that seemed highly improbable in the first place - I'd never be "Melody Collins: the actress." I'd forever be "Melody Collins: the girl who sucked off Marcus Deluna and then got rich after taking him to court". Fuck. My fate is sealed.

But that doesn't mean that I have to take this entirely lying down. I think I'll ask Marcus if he'll put me in contact with a good acting coach or something. I mean, I still have off-time, right? I guess I'll find out tomorrow.

I begin reading my contract, and I am amazed to see how thorough it is. There are positions that I must adopt when requested. Everything is in sort of a code. Unsurprisingly, "Position 1" is kneeling with my hands behind my back. I've already had a taste of that. 'A big taste,' I think, and I curse my perverted mind.

The whole thing is honestly kind of disgustingly elegant. Marcus isn't likely to demand a blowjob outright. Oh no... he'll simply demand I assume Position 1, and the rest will sort itself out, no doubt.

I continue to read, even as my eyes grow heavy. I need to memorize this whole thing by tomorrow. Hopefully I can get it done before I pass out from exhaustion...

............

I awake with a start, confused, and unaware of my surroundings. The room is dimly lit and-

"Fuckin' shit!" My eyes shoot open, and I shove myself away from the shadowy figure positioned at the foot of my bed.

"I suppose you don't realize what time it is."

My heart is racing, as my brain struggles to cast off my sleep-induced grogginess. The voice belongs to...

"Marcus!" I say, hesitantly. His back is turned to me, but the commanding authority within his voice is as clear as day. "Time...?" I shuffle around, looking for my phone, and I finally find it amongst the covers. I click the screen, but it remains as black as pitch. It's dead. "Oh, umm... I'm sorry Marcus, I..."

"You are not to address me so informally." The weight in his words is crushing.

"Oh, I mean Sir!" Part of me feels humiliated because of his demands, but another part is embarrassed at my own ineptitude. Every time I call him Marcus, it's like going off script. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't have a charger to charge my phone with, so it died! My phone is also my alarm clock. Please forgive me." I know he's mad that I slept in, but my excuse does seem pretty understandable.

He points next to the bed, and I follow the line of his finger. Even in the dimness, in a wall socket, I can see a phone charger. I must have missed it last night. My heart sinks. There goes my excuse.

"Do you have any idea how improper it is, for an employer to have to wake up his maid? Does that seem like standard procedure to you, Ms. Melody? Do you honestly expect me to keep you on as a maid, if you can't perform the most basic duties required by that position? Give me one good reason I shouldn't cancel our contract right this instant."

The icy coolness of his words chill me to my core. I feel embarrassed, but worst of all, I feel a growing sense of fear. How seriously is he taking this maid stuff? At first, I thought I was going to be an actress, and then a fuck-toy, but now it seems as if my maid's duties are all he cares about.

"Mar... I mean, Sir! I'm sorry, Sir. I shouldn't have overslept. It won't happen again."

"It won't? How can we be sure? If I cancel our agreement now because of your failure to keep up your end... then I can assure you that your errors will never be repeated." He turns around, and even in the darkness, I can see a gleam in his eyes that terrifies me. It's either the light of fury or rapacious desire. I honestly don't know which one would be scarier.

Oh shit! He is taking this maid stuff super seriously. I can't let him fire me on the first day! I scramble from the bed and onto my feet, and I give an amateurish curtsy. In only panties and a tiny tank top, I know the action probably looks ridiculous, but what else can I do?

I think I can see one eyebrow rise in a tepid approval. He's wearing a classic, silky robe... maybe he just woke up himself. I have no idea, but it's criminal how good he looks in such a garment. Even the darkness can't hide the masculinity within his form.

"Melody, you are brand new at this, so I imagine that a bit of leniency is understandable. That said, if this happens again..." His words trail off, but he doesn't need to finish them. I know exactly what he means. As much as this employment wounds my pride, I can't give up.

"It won't happen again Sir! I promise!" There is a sincerity in my voice that I know he can hear. I really mean what I say. Absolutely.

He seems to relax a bit as he speaks, and I do the same. "Very well, Melody. If you are being honest with me, then I think we can keep your punishment minimal."

My body immediately tenses again. "P...punishment, Sir?"

"Yes of course. I'm not going to fire you over a single error, but I will discipline you. I can't be derelict in my duties, merely because you were."

"Ahh... but..." Fuck. Once again, his commanding presence is overwhelming, and I feel reduced just as before.

He seems to be ignoring me, as he steps to the nightstand next to the bed. He opens it, and suddenly I realize that I have no idea what's inside. I can hear him shuffling things around, and my apprehension grows rapidly. What could he be looking for in there?

"Position 6." He speaks the words with such calm authority, as if this was the most mundane request in the world.

Damnit! Which one was number 6? I spent all night studying all of his rules, and yet I cannot remember this specific one. My anxiety is climbing steadily. I know that some of the positions are unremarkable. Standing at attention with my hands at my side, standing with my hands behind my back, even sitting properly in a chair... all of the possible postures have a numeral designation associated with them. However, many of the poses are more salacious in nature. I can't remember what position 6 is, but if it's for a punishment, I know it can't be good.

My nervous gaze is still fixed on him as he glances back up at me. I notice his eyes fall briefly across the bed. It's a hint. I just know it. If he has to tell me, I'm positive that my punishment will increase. I continue wracking my brain. Which one is it? One through three are different forms of kneeling. I think four and five concern various types of sitting. That would mean-

The answer arrives within my mind, and I feel a surge of relief blended with fear. Fuck! I remember six. No good can come from six! Shit!

Hesitantly, I make my way onto the bed, crawling on my hands and knees. The fact that these night clothes hardly cover anything is not lost on me. I place my head down by my pillows, and my hair splays out wildly. I would be embarrassed, but I have far worse things to worry about at the moment.

In this instant, a question floods into my mind. Why am I not putting up a bigger fight? I could be arguing, protesting, cajoling, but I'm not. I'm following his orders like the good little pet he wants me to be. Not a girlfriend... not even a maid... a pet. A little fuck-thing that he can order around. Why am I allowing him to treat me this way?

An answer immediately returns to me, but it is not one that I want to hear. 'Because you want this' my brain offers, casually. 'You've always wanted a man... this man, to have his way with you, and he's simply giving you exactly what you want.'

No... No! That isn't an answer I can bring myself to accept. I came to this place for an acting career, and I've stayed because he's holding all of my hopes and dreams in the balance! I don't want him using me like this! Nevertheless, my body moves automatically, and I can feel my motions becoming calculated... intentionally sexy... even while my mind continues to protest.

I lay my head down on my pillow, slowly and carefully placing my hands behind my back. I am still on my knees, and I feel a flush across my face. The tank top is riding up, barely covering my tits anymore, but that's nothing compared to my ass, which is high in the air, being presented like a gift for the taking.

"Very good, pet." There is genuine approval in his voice, but there are darker tones within his words which he in no way tries to disguise. He steps close, and I can feel the cool texture of a silky cord being wrapped around my wrists.

I let out a cry of dismay, but he ignores it entirely. With each wrap of the soft fabric around my limbs, I can feel my sense of freedom waning. His motions are swift and clearly practiced, as he binds my hands together. He lashes the ribbon a few times around my wrists and then to my forearms. The fit is snug and yet not too tight, but that does little to quell my anxiety in this moment. As I pull against the restraints, I realize that the bonds are not coming loose; I swallow hard.

Finally a portion of my independent psyche kicks into gear, and I speak, although my tone sounds so mousy and demure, even to my own ears. "Mar... ahh... Sir? Is the... is the restraint entirely necessary...? I promise...!"

*Smack!* His bare hand across my ass is the only answer required. I've been in a similar scenario with him before, and I know what resistance will earn me. I hold my tongue.

"I would say that it is generally unusual for those being reprimanded to set the parameters of their punishment, wouldn't you agree? Hmm?" His words contain all the power and dominance that I am lacking. He tugs on the restraints, seeking a response. The question was not rhetorical.

"No Sir... I mean, yes Sir... I mean... I agree." I am spelling my own doom. I feel like a spider's prey, as he toys with me. Hell, I'm basically wrapped up in his web already.

I hear a light chuckle. "I'm glad we agree. Now, as always, you are free to reject your punishment at any time... Of course, that will end your employment early, and I would be sad to see you go, but the only one holding you here... is you."

*Smack!* There is another fierce slap across my right ass cheek, and I let out a stifled yelp. That one was completely unwarranted!

"Just making sure you're still paying attention." I turn my head so I can see him a bit better, but he is standing mostly behind me at this point, and as my head is smooshed into the mattress, I can mostly only see him out of the corner of my eye.

He is messing with whatever he retrieved from my nightstand. I strain to see what it is, but he isn't being helpful, standing almost directly behind me. I hear the soft squelch of fluid, and my heart sinks. It's lube! He's got lubricant, and he's gonna fuck my ass! Please, God no!

Nobody has ever been in my ass before! He steps forward, and I feel his strong fingers coil around the band of my soft panties. Another wave of embarrassment washes over me. He's about to get a full view of my asshole and my pussy, and I can sense myself hoping against hope that he'll choose the latter.

The soft lingerie slips over the curve of my ass, and I hear a bawdy wolf whistle. It is a complete departure from the controlled nature that Marcus has displayed up until now, and I know he did it to unnerve me. It's working. I know he's staring directly at my two holes.

"I see you waxed yourself in preparation for this job, Ms Melody." The humor in his voice is almost more than I can bear. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

"Wha... I didn't... I couldn't..." I can't find the words to express my thoughts. Of course I didn't do this for him. I had no idea that I'd be in this position-

He drags a single finger downward through my moistened slit, and I feel my body shudder. Oh god... he's staring, and he's touching... A tempest of conflicting ideas is spinning within my brain. I don't want him to ass fuck me, so I want him to fuck my pussy instead, but I don't want that... but I do... but...!

He reaches out a single finger, slipping it upwards through the slit of my pussy. It feels like he was already moistened by the lube, but my arousal has only made it wetter. The digit slips away, and lands on my sphincter. Immediately I tense up, puckering my hole involuntarily. Marus lets out a laugh, and the sound is equal parts cruel and patronizing. I don't know which hurts worse.

"You've never had anyone inside that hole, have you?"

My face is probably blood red, as I struggle to answer his question. "Well... Sir... um... I, no... but..."

"My, my! That is a nice surprise! I honestly figured at your age you would not have a virginity left. But don't stress, my sweet thing... I'm not going to rob you of your virginal asshole." Again he laughs, just as mocking as before, but I breathe a deep sigh of relief just the same.

"Thank you Sir, I..."

"Not today, anyway. Honestly, I'm in too big of a rush. My maid didn't bring me my breakfast this morning, so I'm running a bit behind schedule."

The weight of his words comes crashing down on me, and I bite my bottom lip with appreciation. The threat of anal is in my future, I suppose... but at least it is not going to happen today. My body is trying to relax, but I can feel his finger, still probing and teasing around my rear entrance, and I cannot bring myself to relax.

"Sir, uhh- Ooh!" I gasp with a bit of fear as one of his moist fingers sinks deep into my asshole. I clench automatically against the invasion, but it is so slippery that it slides right past all my defenses. "Oh, Sir! I thought you said...!"

"I'm not going to fuck your ass today, Melody! Relax!" The playfulness in his voice in no way matches the seriousness of this scenario. "I'm just preparing you for your punishment." He continues to probe, slipping his finger in and out of my body. My asshole is struggling to resist him, but I couldn't possibly be in a more compromised position.

The sensations within my rectum form a wild string of conflicting feelings: unfamiliar pleasure, a bit of discomfort, and a strange feeling that I don't even know how to describe... all of this information is being sent directly to my brain, and I have no idea what to do with any of it. Thank God there's no real pain in there, not yet at least. A timid mewl escapes my lips, and I shut my eyes with embarrassment.

He chuckles once more, with the air of a man completely in control. He is playing with me, clearly. "Alright, pet. That's enough prep, I think." Before I can respond, he slips his fingers from within me, and my entire form shutters with relief. There is a momentary pause, before I feel something else, cold and wet touching me. What the fuck?!

"Marc... Sir! What..?" I feel a forward push, as the cool smooth surface of the object begins spreading my hole even wider than before. "What is that?" I know my voice is full of fear, but I cannot help it.

"This is your punishment... rather mild, but very fitting. Now don't you dare move from this position, or your punishment will be far worse."

The object isn't huge, but it is slowly increasing in diameter as Marcus presses it inside, inching it along at a maddeningly slow pace. It takes me far too long to recognize the shape, but I've never before been forced to identify objects by their shape... with my asshole. "Is this a butt plug?! Marcus-"

*SMACK!*

There is an instantaneous, powerful smack on my bottom. The strike catches me entirely off guard, and I clench down in the plug. "What did you call me?" He growls, but there is the slightest hint of humor in his words. He's loving this.

"Mmmm... Sir!" I amend, as my body struggles to relax against the invading object. It takes a moment for me to calm myself, but as soon as I've stopped clenching, he resumes pushing. The foreign object spreads me wider and wider, and as soon as I start to wince from the discomfort, I feel a much needed sense of relief as the bulb of the plug slips past my sphincter, and it settles firmly in place.

Marcus takes a step back, as if to admire his work. "Very good, Melody. Now, in case you didn't realize, this plug has a vibrator function. He fiddles with something on his wrist, and the thing comes to life within me; reverberations ripple from my asshole through my entire sex, and I clamp my mouth shut to hold back a whimper.

"That feels good, doesn't it?" His voice is full of amusement. "I have it linked to my watch, and any time I feel like it, I can give you a little pulse."

"Sir, I- ahhh!" A single wave of pleasure ripples through my body, as the intensity spikes. Nothing has ever been in my ass before. Oh fuck, I had no idea it felt like this. The sensations are pleasurable, but also teasing. I can feel the plug filling me, and gently thrumming... oh that feels... it feels....

There is a steady low level vibration from the device, and I can feel my breath quickening, as the countless nerve endings within my rectum are gently stimulated by the movements within it. Marcus is speaking to me, I know, but I am struggling to concentrate on his words. I try to listen as he explains the intricacies of this toy, but his words are being drowned out by this brand-new, strange, and shameful experience.

"Anyway, I think I'll leave you to your punishment now..."

"What? Sir, I...?"

"Oh, did you think my plan was to fuck you this morning?" Marcus clicks his tongue. "Hmm... that does sound appealing, but I actually have to fly out of town for a few days. I was hoping my maid would have fetched me my breakfast, but since I'm doing that stuff myself, I'm running behind schedule. I bet you're wishing that I'd just come fuck you right now, aren't you?"

"Sir... I... no... uhh...ohh!" The swirling sensations in my ass are making coherent sentences nearly impossible. I don't want to fuck him. Oh, but I do! No, I don't! I'm arguing with my own battered mind, entirely lost within a euphoric sea.